What if...

What if he's not looking for me?

...

Permit me to explain. When I was about 6, I lived in a place called Lisle in Illinois. Growing up there, I became really good friends with my brothers because there weren't any other kids on our block. However, if you went down the street and past the tennis courts, there was another group of houses where lived the closest LDS family to where we were.  (It was rare enough to have somebody within a ten minute drive, so having a family within a ten minute bike ride was amazing.) In this family, there was a boy my age. His name was Parker.

Now, I don't remember a whole lot, other than we were friends. And also a brief memory where we were waiting for the bus after kindergarten and talking to the teacher. We boldly announced to her that someday we were going to get married. She laughed and asked him if he wasn't too old for me, he being 7 and I was 6. I don't remember anything else from that.

His family eventually moved to Texas and I lost touch, remembering him vaguely from a silver heart trinket he gave me before we left. (Corny doesn't exist when you're 6, right?)

Every once in a while it'll flit across my mind and I'll try my luck on Facebook or stalkernet or what have you. But I don't remember what his last name is, other than it's most likely some variation of 'Stevens'. But there are a lot of Stevens out there... and I don't even know where he is.

But for the first time, this week I asked myself something. I'm looking for him... but what if he's not looking for me?

....

I'm not sure what I'm thinking I'll find, if I ever find him at all. Maybe I won't. And that's fine. But I keep hoping that maybe someday we'll find each other. And maybe he remembers the same things I do. And maybe something miraculous will happen. Maybe not. Most likely not, let's get real here.

But I just keep hoping that perhaps we'll get lucky.

It's amazing how God is so aware of us and is helping us out all the time, even when we don't ask for it.

Monday, I had the pleasure of reading a few chapters of a friend's short story. It's extremely rough, since it's a first draft and he's taking ~15 credits, preparing for life changes, etc., so there wasn't a lot of refinement. Which is fine... except that I tend to forget details like that and just start ripping up stories like it's second nature. (Because it practically is.)

When I saw him Monday night, I felt extremely... nervous? Ill? I just didn't feel too great because I wasn't sure how it was all going to play out and what I would say, how I would say it, whatever. I had thought of a few things to say, and started into it when we met.

But then everything I had thought about the few chapter that I'd read came out. Which was, let me tell you, extremely unfortunate.

Looking back on it when I was walking home, I realized I had been harshly frank. I was mortified and realized the experience reminded me of when the same thing had happened to me - I didn't write after that for nearly three years. I didn't want to be responsible for that, but by the time I had gotten home my roommates distracted me enough that I didn't think about it until the next morning.

I was supposed to get up at 6:30 on Tuesday, but had forgotten to reset my alarm so didn't get up on time. I hurried through a few verses of scripture study and went on my way, the previous night's events still weighing on my mind. (That and my lesson, which didn't help that I was unprepared for it.)

When I had finished with class and whatnot by 10, I couldn't help it. I felt so ashamed and cruel, despite him asking for my honesty. I thought about all the different ways I could've handled it, deciding that all of the alternatives were kinder than what I had done. I sent him a text, telling him it was eating me and that I was sure that him telling me it was okay wouldn't make me feel better. His response was probably the most inspired thing I've heard all week.

Rach, you're trying to protect me from getting hurt like you did. Your heart is in the right place. Don't worry about it.

I read it and felt embarrassed, grinning madly as I did mostly because I felt all the guilt and fear dissipate from my body instantly. Have you ever had that feeling before? It is one of the most refreshing feelings you'll ever have. It floored me. You're such an idiot, I told myself.

This morning, when I was reading the chapters I was supposed to be reading yesterday (I didn't get through it all because I was in such a hurry), this message struck me again. I was reading Alma 61, where Pahoran is responding to a letter from Moroni. In verse 9, Pahoran mentions that Moroni's letter had reprimanded him perhaps harshly, but he didn't mind. He says:

I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart.

This mostly just helped me understand that my friend meant it. Frequently people will say good things about me and I'll wave it off, thinking they don't know what they're talking about. But I understood this one and am so infinitely grateful that my Heavenly Father knows what I need to hear, even if I'm too stubborn to admit it sometimes.

oh hey dere, firebird suite. allow me to introduce myself, since I DON'T KNOW YOU AT ALL. (bwuh?)

[link] << CSO! yay!

it must be original version and not the 1919 version, although I can see why he cut it. it was way long! I like this version a lot more though, being way more expressive and whatnot. also, 50ish minutes of firebird instead of 30. yay! more lovin' for stravinsky! brilliant.

edit: the '19 version sounds like it starts at 1:03:08 (22 minutes of cut stuff right there, wth), but it's not. there are still a bunch of other snippets and things that he cut out so I'd get lost for five minutes at a time after that point. And suddenly I'm doubting my math... well, the Fantasia version is only 9 minutes so that alone should blow your mind. anyway, TOTES LE AWESOME.

edit2: my version of '19 firebird is just over 27 minutes, so yeah. firebird where have you been all my life??

My entire life hinges on this appointment.

Don't make me do it. I feel like I won't know myself after I come out. What if there is something wrong with me? What will I be then - still the same?

I'm scared.

A year ago today, we were all waking up to the news that the tabernacle had burnt down. A year later, and we have the news that it will restored - as a temple.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

So for blogpost number 600 (yikes! where did the time go?), I'm going to confess a little bit.

Don't worry, it's not anything bad. As warning, it's hugely nerdy so if you're not into that sort of thing, escape now while you can.

Okay. Ready? Good.

Pokemon Manga. (linked for your convenience to the very first page of the very first book. it even reads left to right, as opposed to most mangas that go R to L. awesome!)

Honestly, I've read through the third generation four times and I've been enthralled EVERY time. It's just... woo! (that's all the way up through ep 337, btw. yeah, I'm lame. what else is new.) the ones that I love the most are through ep 90, but they're really easy to get through cos they're only 20 pages each, and they have big pictures so it's an easy read.

Anyway, the question of canon is likely to come up. (canon being material accepted as "official" in that fictional universe. i.e., there are tonnnnns of head-canons about the children of Harry and his friends, but none of it is official because JK never claims any of it. that's the beauty of her creation, but that's another story for another day.) Is the anime canon? Is the manga canon? What about the games, where do those fit in?

Well, honestly, they all pull from each other. The manga strongly follows the games in terms of plot, and the anime doesn't follow anything close (Red is SO much more pwn than Ash; Red actually is the league champion for two years before he goes missing) but the rules of the pokemon/evolution/etc. is structured off the others. What came first I actually don't know. I think the cards and then the anime, then the games and then manga. As far as canon is concerned for me, the anime never happened. I could live off the manga alone. Red is totally a fictional crush of mine. I'll just admit it.

In any case, I just got through ep. 90 (again) and I remembered it inspired this picture I pieced together almost two years ago:

I hope it's big enough so you can read it.

"So time flows, and the stories never truly end..."

This simple phrase has captured my heart, and I do my best to remember it always. It's so powerful. Time keeps moving. A fact of nature and the universe, yet so easy to forget that no matter what happens you can't help but keep moving. And the stories... the chapters of our lives and the things that touch us deeply never leave us. Just like how Pokemon and the lessons they've taught me, however cheesy they may seem in hindsight, will always be close to my heart.

Anyway. I wanted something epic for a milestone post and this is what I came up with.

I hope you have something dear to your heart that you can turn to, to make you feel like a child again. For me, it's Pokemon. And I adore it.

What do you have?

*le phone*
me: Hello~?
lady: Hi, it's Pam! Calling you back from Florida!
me: uhhh...
lady: *starts rambling about... stuff*
me: UHHH....
lady: ... not doctor anderson?
me: noooope.
*we both laugh nervously and apologize (a lot) before hanging up*


sometimes getting the wrong number is entertaining. usually not. like when I get a voicemail for muhammed. did you listen to the voicemail?? rachael's fridge is talking to you! *headdesk*


XD

why do our early nights never line up, and why do you disregard mine when I need it?

not pleased,

me.